By the Nine!
by Something Stupid
Summary: By the Nine! When Daedric forces attack Cyrodiil, nine champions have been chosen by the Gods to drive them back into the planes of Oblivion. This is their story.


**Author's Note:** Never did I think I'd write an Oblivion fanfic. Yet, here we are...

**Disclaimer:** I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR THE BRILLIANCE THAT IS OBLIVION. Forgive me if I stray too far from the original storyline.

**Summary:** _By the Nine!_ When Daedric forces attack Cyrodiil, nine have been chosen by the Gods to drive them back into the planes of Oblivion. This is their story.

* * *

The fire crackled violently in the furnace, and half-startled a large, brown dog that had been sleeping at the hearth. It yelped and hid behind an antique, burgundy chair not too far from the fireplace. And in the chair...

...Was a man...

He was young, only of about twenty or thirty at the most. He was tall, likely to be a Norseman. His hair, normally a brilliant yellow, seemed as dull as hay in the dim light of the room. But his eyes, blue as the sea itself, never lost their luster. And at the moment, those eyes were commanded by but one object. And that object...

...Was a woman...

Well, not a woman, _per se_. But rather a _portrait_ of one. Her face was youthful and pretty, she appeared to be very much near the age of the man himself. Her eyes and hair were a lovely, cheerful chestnut brown. And her skin milky and pale.

And one should hope that it goes without saying that the look in the young man's eyes had been that of love...

...And loss...

Oh yes, sad as it may be, I regret to say it is nothing but the truth. The woman in the portrait, you see, was none other than Arielle Jurard, a late Battle Mage from the Anvil Mage's Guild, and this particular gentleman's love interest. Poor Arielle had left in a recent quest for her guild, and hadn't returned.

And outside the window...A set of worried and wary eyes watched.

* * *

The night came and went. And in the morning the man left his home, to the chapel, in order to say a prayer for his lost love. It wasn't until on their way back that he heard _her._

"Roland!" Her voice was merry, yet elegant and smooth.

Roland turned in her direction and smiled brightly. She was a rather short Dunmer, dressed neatly in Apprentice robes and a pair of blue suede shoes. "My, my, Vesara, I thought you weren't returning until tonight."

She returned the smile and spinned in the other direction on her toes. It was clear that Vesara was quite nimble. It was also clear that she was going to make no attempt to answer him. Roland just followed suit.

Vesara had always been a bit rude in person, but was still a precious friend. She had been the first he met when he traveled to Cyrodiil, and she had been the one to introduce him to Arielle. Unsurprising, due to her affiliation with the Mage's Guild.

"Miss Motier! Wonderful to see you! How are your studies at the Arcane University coming?" While Vesara spoke with the old woman, Roland chuckled to himself. Vesara was a local celebrity, you see, she was a popular choice to succeed the Archmage and Roland and she would laugh about how she couldn't go anywhere without being recognized.

When they finally managed to reach the Benirus Manor, where Roland resided, it went without asking that Vesara would make herself comfortable. For she had even volunteered to help lift the curse from the house, and would never let her friend live it down.

The dog came up to the Dunmer girl and began licking her hands soon after she had taken up a chair at the far side of the room. And Roland quickly set off to make some tea. Leaving Motier to her own thoughts.

"Do you remember our first time meeting?" She asked after some time.

Roland smiled to himself, thinking of the occasion.

* * *

He had been a traveling merchant back then, coming to Cyrodiil for the first time. And Vesara...Well, Vesara had been his first customer.

Though she didn't seem much like it, Vesara liked to collect odd objects, which Roland, traveling from foreign lands had plenty of. And after purchasing several interesting knickknacks, Vesara ended up showing him the way to the closest town in the area.

Roland had told her that his primary occupation had been knight in the city of Zarlot, his place of birth. Vesara had responded that she had never heard of it. The rest of the conversation continued in a similar fashion, and their friendship grew from there.

* * *

"Yes, yes I do." Roland nearly laughed as he answered her.

He entered the room with a tea set and poured them both a cup. Vesara thanked him and continued the conversation immediately. "Do you remember the amulet I bought?"

Roland searched his memory, and vaguely recalled Vesara purchasing a necklace from him. "Yes."

She beamed and pulled something out of a pocket. From her delicate fingers dangled a jeweled amulet. "I tried my hand at enchanting today. It's a present for you." With that, she tossed it towards him.

Roland caught the amulet and examined it. Not noticing any difference from when he had sold it to her, he asked, "What did you enchant it to do?"

Her smile grew wider and Roland thought that it must have been painful to smile so widely. "Luck."

At that, the Nord looked up at the Dunmer and blinked twice. "Pardon?"

"Luck!"

"Vesara...Why would anyone enchant an amulet for luck?"

"You'll see. It will be very useful." Roland couldn't decide if at this point she looked more smug or threatening. So, in attempt to appease her, he sighed and put it around his neck.

"Are you satisfied now?"

"Quite so."

* * *

The following day, the two set off together towards the Imperial City, Vesara saying she should return to the University, and Roland saying that he hadn't seen the capital for ages.

It couldn't have been much past noon when they saw the smoke.

"By the Nine..." Vesara whispered breathlessly. Both she and Roland raced towards it. The fear and panic in her eyes grew with each passing second.

Once they arrived, there was no mistaking it...

...Kvatch was lost...

Vesara now stood in the ruins, trying to hold back tears. This had been her home, and her family had perished with the city. But during this, Roland realized, that the only reason she was spared, was due to the fact that she had gone to visit him in Anvil.

There were a few survivors, who had managed to escape the Hell hole with the help of Breton traveling from Bruma. The remaining of the guard of Kvatch honorably dubbed him Sir Luther Castel, the Hero of Kvatch.

Roland sighed and looked towards the Heavens for an answer. Sundown,

He turned to Miss Motier and told her, "We must get moving. We want to get to Skingrad before nightfall." Seeing as she showed no signs she heard him, he added, "When we reach the University you should tell Archmage Traven of this. Perhaps then, another disaster may be avoided."

This time she nodded slowly, but sharply, and without so much as looking at him, headed toward the road.

* * *

Once at the inn, Vesara stayed in her room for the entire night, but Roland left for the bar. He felt that he really needed something to drink.

At the counter he asked for an Ale, before a female Redguard crashed down into the seat next to him and offered to pay for him. Noticing that he was confused as to why she paid for him, the lady spoke, "You arrived with the Kvatch guard, didn't you? Well, what's left of it anyway..." Roland confirmed her suspicions. And in a hushed voice, "I knew it! So...Just what happened at Kvatch?" Roland recounted the tale of the city's ruin, well, what he knew of it anyway. "Oh? An Oblivion gate? Like the ones that have been popping up around Cyrodiil?"

"Yes, though now, I'm just worried how to stop them from destroying the other cities..."

The Redguard looked thoughtful for a moment before she finally replied. "Isn't there a prophecy about this?"

"Pardon?" Now Roland was interested.

"You know, about the Nine lending their power to nine mortal champions, to hold back the rising evils from other worlds?" Her voice was animated now.

"Maybe the Archmage would know about it?"

"Yes, yes, the Archmage! He definitely would know! I'll go see him tomorrow at first light."

"That just happens to be where my traveling companion and I are headed."

"Really now? Well, I hope you wouldn't mind me tagging along with you."

Before Roland could even protest to her remark, she hopped up and stretched her arms. "Well then, I'm off to bed. We have a big day ahead of us, afterall." And with that, she left.

* * *

**Author's Note:** I've never tried writing a fic based around OCs. I'd love to hear some feedback.


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